


The Destiel Kiss

by kickassanakin



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, M/M, Not RPF, fake misha is the starshine of my universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-20
Updated: 2013-02-20
Packaged: 2017-11-29 21:55:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/691898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kickassanakin/pseuds/kickassanakin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A horrible though manifested itself in Dean's head. "Wait, I'm not kissing... Sa-uh, Jared, am I?" an edge of hysteria hit his voice. If he had to kiss his own brother, he would just die. Literally die. </p><p>"Of course not, silly! You're kissing me. It'll bring in the fangirls." Misha wiggled his eyebrows devilishly.</p><p>Dean made that odd choking noise again. The fake angel chuckled nervously and patted him on the back. What an asshole!</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Destiel Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> LIKE THE TAGS I SWEAR TO JESUS THIS ISN'T RPF I'M SORRY IF THAT'S WHAT YOU CAME FOR BUT  
> this is fake Misha  
> remember  
> the adorable asshole who diED  
> yeah I ship him and Dean like so fucking hard you don't even know. But yeah. This is moreso for Destiel, anyways. SORRY MISHEAN, YOU WILL COME ANOTHER DAY. Yes that is a promise.  
> ETA: I forgot to mention this was literally my first fanfiction for Supernatural. I am so, so sorry. IT'S LEGIT REALLY CRAPPY AND I TRIED TO FIX IT BUT *sigh* I've gotten better I swear omfg not all my fics are this weird -I'm lying I have a ton more that are (SO MUCH BETTER WRITTEN) so much weirder dkjfgasmnet-

"Hey! Hey, Jensen! Over here!" Came the voice of the one guy Dean really did not want to hear at the moment. Fake Cas... err, Misha, was a nice guy - but he was just freakin' weird. Like, why was he tweeting all the time? And what was with the dumb nicknames? He was the exact opposite of Cas, which really upset Dean in more ways than one. He missed the angel. Misha was just a substitute, and it was really starting to show that he had been feeling left out of the 'acting' gang. 

Dean couldn't blame fake him. If that guy resembled anything like his real self, he would try and stay as far away from this guy as possible. He sighed, aggravated, and faced the angelic lookalike. His eyes were gleaming with nervous excitement, something that made Dean wary. This guy would not get excited over something normal. No, something bad was going to happen. Very,  _very_  bad.

"Where's Jared?" Misha asked, his kitten-like eyes wide and inquisitive. Dean shrugged.

"I dunno. Probably looking for a bathroom... or something. What do you want?" Dean knew Sam would call if he was in trouble. They were on a bit of a timed schedule, and they needed the last ingredient of the spell before they could preform it that day.

Misha twiddled his thumbs, looking down. "Uh, so... today's the day, huh?" he giggled for a moment, then sobered up, still looking down. Was that a blush on his cheeks?

"Uhh... yeah. That day. Good luck, man." a comforting pat on the shoulders. He had no idea what the actor was talking about. Misha's eyes widened in shock.

"You mean you're not nervous?!" he gasped. Dean shrugged.

"Well, uh, there isn't a lot I haven't done in my...  _career_." he smirked at his a bitter joke. Misha raised one eyebrow appraisevly.

"You've never kissed a guy on screen before. Even I know that!" he chuckled. Dean's eyes shot wide open in shock, a strangled choke escaping his lips. "J-man! Are you okay?" Misha exclaimed, alarm filling his eyes. If he were Cas, Dean might've found it cute. But this guy was not Cas. Sure, he looked like Cas, talked like Cas (sometimes), and was about as socially capable as Cas, but this man was not an angel of the Lord. He was Misha Collins. Castiel was special.

A horrible though manifested itself in Dean's head. "Wait, I'm not kissing... Sa-uh, Jared, am I?" an edge of hysteria hit his voice. If he had to kiss his own brother, he would just die. Literally die. 

"Of course not, silly! You're kissing me. It'll bring in the fangirls." Misha wiggled his eyebrows devilishly.

Dean made that odd choking noise again. The fake angel chuckled nervously and patted him on the back. What an  _asshole_! 

Oh shit. Cas was... Cas! He couldn't kiss the guy! Even if he was just a lookalike - It was too much look-alike-ing! His heart froze. If he were to kiss Cas, it would only be the real guy. Not some lame actor.

Just then, Sam returned with the stuff they needed. Dean whisked him away, wishing Misha good luck or whatever and getting the hell away from him.

"Dude, what's your deal? He isn't really Cas, you know." Sam snickered, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Dean gulped, shaking his head from side to side.

"I have to ki-ki-ki-"

"Kill?" Sam's eyebrow rose. "Well, I can see how that would be a little uncomfortable, since-"

" _KISS_!" Dean nearly shouted. "I have to  _kiss_  that sorry son of a bitch!"

Sam was silent for a moment. Contemplating.

Then, he burst into laughter, obnoxiously grating against Dean's ears. Fucking Sammy.

"It's a good thing we've got all the spell stuff. Just a few minutes and BAM! Right back home." Sam tried to make his brother feel better. It did, in fact. It mean that Jensen Ackles or whoever was gonna have to kiss the sorry son of a bitch. As long as it wasn't him.

Once they got to the set, they couldnt find Bobby's Living Room. It was gone. Dean made a high-pitched squeal in his throat, looking around for Bobby's set.

It was  _nowhere to be found._

"Yeah, we took down the Living Room set last night. You know, for the new sets today? We've got Motel Design #7, Police Station, Street Corner #3, and Graveyard #9. The Dean/Cas kiss is gonna take place in the motel, when Sam leaves to get ingredients for the summoning spell." a P.A was talking to Robert Singer as the two hunters listened. Dean's face was white. Sam was doubled over with laughter.

There was no escaping it now. Resistance was futile. Dean resigned to kissing the lost puppy version of Cas. He grabbed the script from one of the nearby writers, and gawked at the scene. "I have to like... make out with him? You have got to be freakin' kidding me!"

"That's showbiz, man." Sam grinned maliciously.

Finally, the time had come. There had been so many retakes of precious scenes, that all they had time for was working on the Big Kiss scene. Dean was beyond nervous. Misha was popping breathmints like some kind of drug. Dean looked over at the angelic actor and subtly took one from his little tin container. They were called up to the stage, and Dean quickly chewed up the mint in his mouth. Everything was so sharp and defined. He could feel his heartbeat accelerating with each step. Misha looked nervous as well, shuffling his feet and looking down.

"Aaaand...  _Action_!" the dreaded words.

Misha suddenly became Cas, his entire demeanor changing to fit the character. Dean was impressed. Surely if that little guy could act, he could, too? He literally was the character he's playing, after all. He took a deep breath and let the scene wash over him.

"Dean..." Cas whispered, gravelly voice laden with worry. "I believe we both understand the urgency of this situation."

Dean nodded enthusiastically, suddenly blanking on lines. Luckily, it wasn't his turn yet. "If we can't find Balthazar, we might be forced to admit that he is truly dead."

A well of beautiful improvisational gold just washed up in his brain. "I can't believe that he's dead, Cas." his voice was low, and he turned away from the actor in an angel's body, looking for something natural to do. He found a plastic knife on the bedside table and picked it up, toying with it absently.

"But we will need to face the facts. If he is, we will not be able to find the weapons. We won't be able to defeat Raphael."

"We  _will_  find a way to get those weapons." Dean asserted, twirling around suddenly and tossing the knife down on the table again. "No matter what. Hell, I'm a pretty damn good lock-pick, aren't I?" He shrugged with a smirk.

"Dean. There is something you need to know." Cas sighed, looking at his hands, in an effort at being self-conscious. He took a step closer to the rugged hunter. "These weapons... they are most likely on another plane of existence."

"So you're telling me what, that we can't make 'em move existences?" Dean narrowed his eyes, noticing the white tape on the floor in front of him. He took a step and was standing on the line, an inch away from Cas/Misha's face. The actor didn't waver his ice-blue gaze, eyes boring into Dean's own hazel.

"There might be a way to do just that, but it is... extremely hazardous."

Dean bit back a snort. This guy was a fabulous actor. He shrugged it off and his gaze sharpened.

"I'll do whatever it takes to win this war." He growled, fists clenching. For a moment, he saw awe in the other actor's eyes. Then worry. Then fear.

It was almost time.

Cas/Misha never relented his stare from the elder Winchester brother's face.

Then, as the director was beginning to tap his feet impatiently, it was time. Something in him snapped. Cas/Misha's eyes widened, in shock and also some other emotion Dean couldn't quite make out. His lips crashed against Cas/Misha's, although he had a feeling he was supposed to keep it a stage kiss. The directors might freak out if one of the stars began mackin' on the other too much.

It felt strictly professional, and while Dean knew it was because Misha definitely (probably) didn't play for that team, it hurt. He wished it was the real Cas, not the damn actor.

Suddenly, the kiss deepened. He felt a rough hand on the back of his neck, pulling him closer. The feeling of a stranger's lips dissipated and was replaced with a warm, comforting feeling. Like coming home, if you will. The director's voice, calling out "Scene!" faded, like they had been in another room.

Dean held the other man in this embrace for a few more moments, before opening his eyes slowly and seeing Cas before him.

Not that Misha guy, but Cas.  _His_  Cas. A slight reddish color was upon the angel's face, along with a breathless grin.

"Hello, Dean." Castiel whispered, his voice rough. Dean growled a greeting before pushing the angel onto the closest wall, lips meeting in a defiant battle once again.

A loud throat clearing took Dean's attention from his angel. Sam was looking kinda grossed out.

"I'm just gonna... Yeah. Sick now. Explain later." he darted into the bathroom and shut the door.

There was a beat of bemused silence.

"So... how did you do it?" Dean wondered after a moment, looking into his angel's ethereal blue eyes. A smirk painted its way across Dean's lips.

"It seems that the link between this vessel and the one from that dimension was particularly strong. I found a way to get in there to help you escape, and... that was happening." Cas chuckled. Dean didn't bother saying anything else. Castiel was goddamn  _sexy_  when he laughed.

Without another word, he pulled his angel down on the bed with him, just when Sam shot out of the bathroom and out the front door of the motel room, shouting "I'll get another room, see you in the morning!" as fast as humanly possible.

Dean and Cas didn't really care, though. They were kind of occupied.


End file.
